Wild and swift was each savage steed,
And a mare was standing within the mead;
Four grooms impelled the coursers on,--
A fearful ending for Ganelon.
His every nerve was stretched and torn,
And the limbs of his body apart were borne;
The bright blood, springing from every vein,
Left on the herbage green its stain.
He dies a felon and recreant:
Never shall traitor his treason vaunt.

_End of the Song._ Having thus punished the traitor and converted the
heathen, Charlemagne, lying in his chamber one night, receives a visit
from the angel Gabriel, who bids him go forth and do further battle
against the pagans. Weary of warfare and longing for rest, the aged
emperor moans, "God, how painful is my life!" for he knows he must
obey.

When the emperor's justice was satisfied,
His mighty wrath did awhile subside.
Queen Bramimonde was a Christian made.
The day passed on into night's dark shade;
As the king in his vaulted chamber lay,
Saint Gabriel came from God to say,
"Karl, thou shalt summon thine empire's host,
And march in haste to Bira's coast;
Unto Impha city relief to bring,
And succor Vivian, the Christian king.
The heathens in siege have the town essayed,
And the shattered Christians invoke thine aid."